


Lady Teagan of Rainesfere

by MsBarrows



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Crossdressing, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBarrows/pseuds/MsBarrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an odd little plot-bunny idea that ambushed me while considering Teagan's long term bachelorhood, and wouldn't go away until I wrote out most of it. Bann Teagan having a secret life that he only indulges in within the privacy of his home in Rainesfere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady Teagan of Rainesfere

It was good to be home in Rainesfere again, Teagan thought as he dismounted from his horse, smiling as he handed the reins off to his groom. As much as he enjoyed visiting with his brother's family, or visiting with friends elsewhere, Rainesfere was the only place where he truly felt at home. Here, away from the scrutinizing eyes of anyone but his most trusted servants, he could be himself.

He took his time. There were people he must first talk to, people he must reassure, people he must smile and nod at, make sure that his presence was known, that his rule over his household was felt. The seneschal had papers he needed to sign; the cook wanted to speak to him about a worrisome rise in the cost of spices of late. He signed the papers, authorized an increased allowance for keeping the kitchen properly stocked. Examined a crack that had opened up in one wall beneath a window in the pantry, and agreed that a skilled workman must be hired to see it put right.

[[MORE]]Finally, everyone else's needs satisfied, he was able to retire to his own private apartments. His valet already had the bath water heated, the soap and razor and other toiletries laid out. It took some time, as it always did, but he loved the careful way Henri handled him, the glide of razor across well-soaped skin, the feeling of transformation as legs, chest, arms, belly and back were carefully scraped smooth.

“The beard?” Henri asked, pausing at this point in the ritual as he always did.

Teagan smiled, counting days in his head. “Yes,” he said, pleased that he could go without it for a few days before he must grow it in again. He'd considered, more than once, simply doing away with it entirely, but he liked the role it played in his metamorphosis, how it helped him to remember when he must be Bann Teagan, a noble of Ferelden, and changed when he was not.

He allowed just the tiniest sigh of pleasure to escape as the razor glided over the skin of his chin and upper lip, removing the carefully maintained little beard. Henri helped him to his feet, after that, and started the tub draining, then poured water over him before picking up washcloths and soap. Teagan lathered up his chest and arms, and washed carefully between his legs while Henri dealt with feet and legs and back, and shampooed his hair. Teagan smiled at the scent of the soap; delicately floral. Delicious. And then more hot water poured carefully over him, to rinse it all away.

Afterwards there were large, soft towels to rub him dry, and then a massage, Henri working a scented cream into his skin from head to toe, the same floral scent as the soap. And then, finally, the clothes.

The smallest undergarment first of all, a cache-sex of lace-edged white silk. The corset next, his current favourite, a satiny white moire fabric, edged in just a narrow band of pale blue lace at the top, but with deeper frills of it around the bottom. “Tighter,” he told Henri. “Or I'll never fit in the new dress.” He held tightly to the bedpost, taking shallow little breaths as Henri yanked the laces even tighter yet, drawing in his waist to the smallest possible compass. Then the stockings, knit of fine white silk, tied with pale blue ribbons to the corset, and the shoes, slippers of blue-dyed leather with a silver buckle

And then the dress, the new dress, shipped all the way from Antiva. A daring style, the dark blue silken cloth of the bodice cut on the bias to drape snugly to the body, with long, close-fitting sleeves, but ending just shy of the shoulders, so shoulders and upper back and chest and neck were bared above an edging of soft white lace. The skirt of it had no underskirts, but instead was made of yards and yards of thin fabric that fell in deeply rippled folds around his legs, the bottom edge weighted with thin chain sewn into the hem so it swirled wonderfully with every least movement, rubbing gently against his legs, which felt sensitized to even the softest touch after their recent shave.

It was only by an effort of will that he did not go directly to the mirror to see how it looked, but instead took a seat at the vanity, closing his eyes while Henri went to work with powders and pigments and creams, with little brushes and large ones, carefully applying his makeup. He loved this most of all, he sometimes thought, the feeling of being pampered as creams were carefully rubbed in, powder skillfully applied, colour carefully painted or dusted on over top. More creams rubbed into his hands, and his nails carefully trimmed and shaped, and buffed gently.

And last of all, the wig, his own hair combed out and clipped back before Henri settled the weight of it on his head, carefully concealed pins serving to fasten it in place so that it seemed to be his own hair, most of it piled on top of his head in careful ringlets, and then a fall of it down his back, a few long tresses draped artfully forward over one shoulder.

“Done,” Henri finally said, softly, sounding pleased with himself, as he always was after using his skills to assist in Bann Teagan's transformation.

Teagan opened his eyes at last, rose, and walked over to the mirror. He gazed at the woman he saw reflected there; tall, elegantly dressed, beautiful. Straightened a little more, turning a half-step so the dress swirled, smiled happily at the effect of it, the feel of it.

“Mother's sapphires, I think,” she said softly, just the least bit breathless from the tight lacing, lifting one hand to touch fingertips to where her collarbones swooped so gracefully together at the base of her exposed throat. She hadn't realized how long her neck looked, bare, having usually only seen it half-hidden by tall collars. “White brilliant drops for the ears.”

Henri nodded, and fetched the jewel-case, fastening on the necklace and earrings, as well as a bracelet of more brilliants, and a sapphire ring.

“Thank you,” she told him when he was done, and smiled as Henri bowed deeply before turning away to begin cleaning up and putting away. She walked out to her sitting room.

Madame was already there, and smiled warmly at her. “You look magnificent, my dear,” she said in her warm, soft voice, rising to her feet to greet Teagan, taking her by the hands and kissing her quickly on each cheek. “Come, join me. You may pour,” she said, gesturing at the tea service already set out on the low table by her chair before resuming her seat.

Teagan smiled, and lowered herself to sit gracefully on the floor by Madame's chair, carefully arranging her skirts for best effect as she sunk down. She checked the pot, to be sure the tea was brewed strong enough, but not stewed, and with careful, formal movements set out the two painted cups on their saucers, added honey and a grating of cinnamon to one and only sugar to the other, poured, stirred, the little silver spoon tinkling softly against the fine porcelain, a comforting sound. There was a plateful of little iced cakes, and she arranged three on the edge of the saucer of the spiced tea before handing it to Madame, and took only one for herself; iced in white, with a candied violet on top. She took a sip of her own tea, and then a bite of the cake, just a small bite, careful not to drop any crumbs on her new dress.

“Well done,” Madame said approvingly, and she flushed in pleasure, the flush deepening as fingers brushed back her hair, stroked lightly along the rim of her ear.

“You look divine in that outfit,” Madame said. “It suits your colouring so well; it brings out the blue of your eyes. I shall look forward to helping you out of it, later. Will you like that?”

“Oh,  _yes_ ,” Teagan said warmly, and smiled at her mistress, glad as always to be home, where she could be herself.


End file.
